âMorning,â I repeat and pour a glass of water.
He continues to stare at me while I sip my water. âWhat?â I finally ask him.
âYou . . . well . . . you look great,â he says.
âThank you. I decided to shower and come back from the dead,â I joke, and he smiles slowly as if heâs unsure about my mental state. âReally, itâs fine,â I assure him, and he takes another bite of his bagel, finishing it.
I decide to put one in the toaster for myself and try not to notice Landon staring at me like Iâm an animal in a zoo.
âIâm ready whenever you are,â I tell him after finishing my breakfast.
âTessa, you look so gorgeous today!â Karen exclaims when she enters the kitchen.
âThank you.â I smile at her.
Todayâs the first day that Iâve taken the time to get ready, really ready and presentable. The last eight days I have gone far away from my usual neat appearance. Today I feel like myself. My new self. My âAfter Hardinâ self. Day nine is my day.
âThat dress is flattering.â Karen compliments me again.
The yellow dress that Trish got me for Christmas fits well and itâs very casual. Iâm not going to make the same mistake as last time and attempt to wear heels to classes, so my Toms it is. Half of my hair is pinned back, with a few loose curls tapering over my face. My makeup is subtle, but I think it suits me well. My eyes burned slightly as I dragged the brown liner underneath my eye . . . makeup surely wasnât on my list of priorities during my downward spiral.
âThank you so much.â I smile again.
âHave a great day.â Karen smiles, clearly surprised but very pleased at my return to the real world.
This must be what itâs like to have a caring mother, someone to send you off to school with kind and encouraging words. Someone unlike my mother.
My mother . . . I have dodged all calls from her, and thankfully so. She was the last person I wanted to speak to, but now that I can breathe without wanting to rip my heart from my chest, I actually want to call her.
âOh, Tessa, will you be riding with us to Christianâs house on Sunday?â Karen asks just as I reach the door.
âSunday?â
âThe dinner theyâre having to celebrate their move to Seattle?â she tells me as if I should know this already. âKimberly said she told you about it? If you donât want to go, I know theyâll understand,â she assures me.
âNo, no. I want to go. Iâll ride with you.â I smile. I am ready for this. I can be in public, in a social setting, without cracking. My subconscious is mute for the first time in nine days, and I thank her before following Landon outside.
The weather mirrors my mood, sunny and somewhat warm for the end of January. âAre you going on Sunday?â I ask him once we get in the car.
âNo, Iâm leaving tonight, remember?â he replies.
âWhat?â
He looks at me with a wrinkled brow. âIâm going to New York for the weekend. Dakota is moving into her apartment there. I told you a few days ago.â
âIâm so sorry, I shouldâve paid more attention to you instead of making it all about me,â I tell him. I canât believe how selfish Iâve been to not even pay attention to him telling me about Dakotaâs move to New York.
âNo, itâs okay. I only briefly mentioned it, anyway. I didnât want to rub it in your face when you were . . . well, you know.â
âA zombie?â I finish for him.
âYes, a very scary zombie,â he jokes, and I smile for the fifth time in nine days. It feels nice.
âWhen will you be back?â I ask Landon.
âMonday morning. Iâll miss Religion, but Iâll be there right after.â
âWow, thatâs exciting. New York will be incredible.â I would love to escape, to get out of here for a while.
âI was worried about going and leaving you here,â he tells me, and guilt fills me.
âDonât be! You already do way too much for me; itâs time I do things for myself. I donât want you to ever think about not doing something for yourself because of me. Iâm so sorry that I made you feel that way,â I tell him.
âItâs not your fault, itâs his,â he reminds me, and I nod.
My headphones go back into my ears, and Landon smiles.
IN RELIGION, PROFESSOR SOTO chooses the subject of pain. For a moment I swear heâs done it on my behalf, to torture me, but when I begin to write about how pain can cause people to turn to or away from their faith and God, Iâm thankful for this torture. My entry ends up being filled with thoughts about how pain can change you, how pain can make you much stronger, and in the end you donât need faith as much. You need yourself. You need to be strong and not allow pain to push you or pull you into anything.
I end up going back to the coffeehouse before yoga to acquire more energy. On my way back to yoga I pass the environmental studies building and my mind goes to Zed. I wonder if heâs in there now. I assume he is, but I donât have a clue about his schedule.
Before I can overthink it, I go inside. I have a little time before my class begins, and itâs less than a five-minute walk from here.
I look around the large lobby of the building. Just like I might have expected, large trees fill most of the massive space. Sticking to the theme, the ceiling is mostly skylights, giving the illusion that itâs almost nonexistent.
âTessa?â
I turn, and indeed, there is Zed, wearing a lab coat and thick safety goggles on top of his head that push his hair back.